Kiss or Kill
by PlatinumPizzaKiller
Summary: What if the key to Peeta's hijacking had been Katniss' singing? Set in Mockingjay. AU. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: **Yes, I removed this story because I wasn't happy with the ending, but now it's back up (with an ending I'm happy with, lol). The song in this fic is called "I Never Told You" by Colbie Caillat (though I prefer the cover by Lindsay Lee). Hope you enjoy! :)

* * *

The walls around me seem to be caving in, crushing me to death. I ram my hands into my head, squeezing my eyes shut, but the evil thing is inside: my mind. It replays Peeta's unforgiving words, the thousands of deaths, and blood…blood everywhere.

A low scream leaves my throat, my hands clenching into balls. _I kill Snow _plays through my mind, and I hold on to that promise; clutching tight to the _one_ steady thing in my life.

The thoughts are coming too fast and the memories are flashing by menacingly. I think of the woods with Gale, dancing in the kitchen with Prim, listening to my father's songs, Peeta's arms around me, his warm smile, his sweet gaze, his kisses, all gone, gone, _gone. _Gone because of Snow. It's all _because of Snow._

Haymitch says he has started to recover. That he can almost tell the difference between truth and lies. He says that Peeta is responding to his treatments, and now can grasp the concept of once loving me. Of me being a good person; not a mutt.

But whenever I think of Peeta, I see his eyes: cruel and cold and black. How can he ever come back to me? How can he?

A sound escapes my throat. It's surprisingly sweet and high. It almost sounds like a musical note. _Singing…_that had always helped before. Singing numbed my mind, allowing me to escape into the song. It should work now, it _has _to.

No one is around. Everyone is at where their schedule requires. No one can hear me. Perfect.

I close my eyes, and the perfect song comes to mind. I take a deep breath, and start:

_I miss those blue eyes,_

_How you kiss me at night,_

_I miss the way we sleep._

_Like there's no sunrise, _

_Like the taste of your smile,_

_I miss the way the we breathe._

_And I never told you, what I should've said._

_No, I never told you, I just held it in._

_And now, I miss everything about you,_

_After all the things we've been through,_

_I miss everything about you, without you._

The song comes to an end. And so does my momentary feeling of bliss. For a moment, I was the song, sweet, strong, and high above the clouds. Now I'm back to being me, a broken seventeen year old girl trapped underground, responsible for thousands of lives. A shuddering sigh leaves me.

Suddenly, I am aware of a shadow at the door. A pair of blue eyes, not unlike the ones in the song, duck behind the entrance. My hands go rigid. It's Peeta. Peeta who, days ago, tried to kill me. Still wants to kill me. This Peeta is right outside my door. Judging by his still shadow, he isn't going anywhere.

"Peeta?" I call out, trying to steady my voice, "What do you want?" My voice is rather harsh.

He steps into view. For a moment, his eyes aren't sinister, but confused. That, combined with the messy blond hair falling into his eyes, almost makes me believe Peeta is back. Then his eyes change, now regarding me suspiciously.

"Your…" he says, his voice apprehensive, "Your singing can silence the mockingjays." He pauses, "Right?"

I nod. "Yes. Well, that's what they tell me…that's what _you _told me."

"Did you make up that song?" he asks.

I shake my head. "No. It's been around for ages."

His eyebrows furrow. "But…but the blue eyes…"

I can tell what he's trying to say. "Yes, I know. The song is eerily similar to…to what I'm going through. It happens sometimes."

Is this really happening? Am I having a conversation with Peeta? He's still guarded, but he hasn't lashed out or has tried to hurt me. The world suddenly seems hazily brighter.

He looks at me, and this time, his eyes aren't reproachful; they're honestly interested. "You miss me?"

"Huh?"

"The song…about missing the boy with blue eyes. Youmiss me?"

"Yes." The word leaves without permission.

A crease appears in his forehead. "But I'm right here."

I sigh. "No, you're not."

This confuses him more. He starts muttering to himself. Suddenly, Peeta stops. When he looks at me, his eyes are frantic. "Sing!" he demands.

I am perplexed. "What?"

"Sing!" he screeches, "Sing the rest of the song! Sing!"

_He's crazy…_My heart picks up its pace. He's blocking the doorway. I am trapped in a room with a deranged boy who wants to kill me. Who let him out of supervision, anyway!

My brain works full speed. There is a small gap between the door and Peeta. I think I may be just small enough to squeeze through.

I am just about to make a break for it when Peeta blocks the entrance. "No, you're not going anywhere."

My blood runs cold. I open my mouth, about to emit the loudest scream I can manage.

"Stop!" Peeta says.

I hesitate. Peeta's voice isn't cold anymore; it's pleading, though still frantic.

"Please, Katniss," he says. It's the first time I've heard him use my name without triggering violence or gag reflexes. "Keep singing that song. A memory…it's coming back, I can almost…"

I close my eyes, trying not to feel sorry for this boy. For the first time, I take my doctors' advice: when in stress, breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

When I open my eyes, I realize Peeta is not even an inch away. I gasp, staggering back and falling into the bed behind me.

"The Quell," he says, panting, "The Quell!"

I just look at him, suddenly wary of Peeta. I scooch back, putting as much distance as I can between us.

"You…" he rasps, "You and I watched the sunset. On the rooftop."

I nod, a spark of hope suddenly entering me. "Yes, Peeta. We did."

He places a hand on his temple. "And then we…me and you…we went to bed…"

Suddenly, he looks up. With a gasp, I realize his eyes are pools of black. "_You killed it,_" he rasps, "_You killed our baby!_"

"What? No!" I say, baffled.

The black shrinks back a bit, letting the rim of his blue eyes peek through. "So…it's still alive?" he asks hopefully.

"No!" I exclaim, "I mean…there never _was _a baby. That was Snow's fabrication, not what really happened."

He looks disappointed, and more confused than ever. Suddenly, his whole body starts twitching. Beads of sweat appear on his forehead; his teeth gritted together.

"_No!_" he pants, "_I won't let you! I won't let you kill them, mutt!"_

_Oh, no, no, no…_How am going to get out of this one? I am backed up against a bed, with a maniac who wants to kill me. There is no way to duck around him. There is only one thing left to do: I can shout for help, hoping a passerby might hear me.

I open my mouth, just about to scream, when his lips crash onto mine. A startled sound leaves me. This isn't one of Peeta's sweet, light kisses from before. No, this one is rough, assertive, and greedy. He's kissing me with a mad, frenzied passion.

I place my hands on his shoulder, trying to shove him away. But Peeta has other plans. He tangles his fingers in my hair, bringing my head closer to his. The kiss turns into something wet and sloppy.

_At lease he isn't trying to kill me, _I think miserably, trying helplessly to push him off me. Finally, I just bite his tongue. He immediately pulls away, but doesn't get off of me. He looks at me with a hungry intensity in his eyes.

I should be screaming. I should be screaming and punching and kicking. But for some reason, I hesitate.

He places his hand on my forehead, making me flinch. But his touch is gentle, not maniacal. His fingers trail down my face, coming to rest on my lips. There they stay. He scrutinizes my lips, inspecting them from every angle. I, suddenly self conscious, am about to bite his finger when he removes them.

"It's so strange," he says, "I don't know whether I want to kiss you or kill you."

I narrow my eyes. I bitterly say, "Let me know when you make up your mind, sweetheart."

Peeta's eyes look hurt. "I'm trying, aren't I? I'm trying!"

I shove him again, suddenly irritated with this boy. For the past two years he has had me on a hell of a ride. Peeta complies when I push him, easily getting off of me.

He flops down beside me, and exhaustedly says, "I'm so tired. I…I want to sleep."

Sleep…on _my _bed? "Don't you have your own place, Peeta?"

He laughs grimly. "My cell? Where I am kept under key and lock and watched 24/7? No, thank you."

"Who let you out, anyway?" I say, annoyed.

He shrugs. "I was 'displaying appropriate behaviour' apparently, so they let me walk to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Only I never went to the bathroom. I heard _you_."

Didn't anyone notice him gone? I should go tell one of the doctors to take Peeta back. It isn't safe to have him run around loose like this.

"You're going to go snitch on me, aren't you?" he says coldly, "That's what you always do. Go behind my back. Love me. Hate me. Kiss me. Kill me."

I look at him incredulously. "You're being incredibly unreasonable, you know that?"

He looks at me. "No, I don't."

The reality of his words hit me. Here I am, getting mad at Peeta, when he doesn't even know what he's doing wrong. He can't tell the difference between reality and his hijacking.

"Go to sleep, Peeta." I tell him, suddenly very tired with him.

"Okay," he replies. He snuggles down on my pillow, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"Just go ahead and make yourself at home," I mutter under my breath.

I get up to leave when Peeta grabs my hand. I flinch, wheeling around. For the first time, his eyes are blue, perfectly Peeta, but a bit afraid.

"Don't go," he pleads, "Stay with me. The memories…they start coming back when you're around. _Please_ stay."

"I can't," I say, and realize how true my words are. Peeta is almost acting like himself right now, but I don't know how he will be two minutes from now. He could be trying to kill me. He hasn't recovered, yet; I don't know if he ever will.

His face falls. "Okay. Can you…can you sing?"

I start. "Sing?"

He nods, closing his eyes. "They keep showing me the tape of you singing 'The Hanging Tree'. It helps bring back memories the most. I remember…I remember the cave. When you drugged me…when you gave me sleep syrup…to make it easier to kill me."

I scowl at him. "No," I say impatiently, "I drugged you so that I could get the medicine for your leg."

His eyebrows furrow. "But…why would you need to drug me?"

"You didn't want me to go. You…" I look away, "You wanted to protect me."

There is a moment of silence. I shift uncomfortably, thinking that at this very moment, I could be with Gale. Wait, I can't…he has classes. I do, too, but I make a point of not attend them. I feel unease at my heart. Peeta and Gale do not coincide well together in my mind.

"Sing," Peeta says again, "Sing that lullaby."

My eyebrows draw together. "What lullaby?"

He closes his eyes. "The one you sang to her. To Rue."

My eyes start stinging at the mention of her. Sweet, innocent Rue, who was so much like Prim…

"No," I say, "I don't want to."

"Please?" he says, his pleading eyes boring into mine.

I do what I have been doing for a while, now: What would Prim do? Prim, who looked at everything with innocent eyes. Prim, who could look into the mess of the situation and see it for what it is.

_It's just a song, Katniss, _I almost hear Prim say,_ don't you owe him at least this much?_ I sigh. I take a deep breath and start:

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow,_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,_

_Lay down your head, and close your sleep eyes,_

_And when they open, the sun will rise._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm,_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm,_

_Here your dreams are sweet, _

_And tomorrow brings them true,_

_Here is the place where – _

My voice catches, unable to say the three words. It doesn't matter, though. Peeta is fast asleep, mouth parted open slightly.

I suddenly realize that his hand is resting on mine. It's a gentle touch, albeit a bit protective. It almost seems like he's still trying to protect me.

For the first time, I start to think that his recovery may not be as impossible as I think.


End file.
